Over Her Dead Body
by Battus philenor
Summary: GS - A friend helps out a little.


Title: Over Her Dead Body

Author: Battus philenor

Disclaimer: I don't own them, and they don't want this story.

A/N: I enjoy the character of Albert Robbins. I hope this is a passable attempt at writing G/S through his eyes.

He ambled slowly down the corridor; once again silently cursing his wretched crutches. The water which had been tracked in from the rain was pooled in sporadic puddles on the floor, making for some pesky land mines.

Glancing up from his puddle hunt he caught a glimpse of shoulder-length brown hair whipping around the corner, and his stubbornly single scientist friend standing, open mouthed staring after her, yet again.

Mumbling something about the bizarre mating rituals of reclusive nocturnal forensic scientists, he continued slowly down the booby-trap laced hallway.

Finally reaching the swinging doors to his lair, he pushed through, leaning against the first available counter while not so silently cursing the rain. Thankful; not for the first time, that his wife chose a desert climate to move them to, away from the always rainy east coast. Even the minimal rainfall in Nevada was more than enough for him; the weather tended to make his phantom leg pain worse.

His sleek crutches leaned against the cold metal table as he donned his disposable blue scrubs. The crutches marked the place where he'd perform his part in one of the day's investigations. Catching his breath, his space was suddenly invaded as the doors swung inward with more force than necessary, as the obviously preoccupied Gil Grissom graced him with his presence.

"Gil."

"Albert" Grissom managed, sounding almost as if he weren't distracted by a stubborn young brunette.

Watching his friend for a minute, Robbins witnessed Grissom pull himself together, focusing once again after staring off into space. Ready for business, he turned to the empty table, one eyebrow raised, questioning the bare surface without uttering a word.

"I just got back from accompanying my wife to our daughter's first gynecological exam."

Grissom's eyebrow seemed to rise even further on his forehead, giving him an almost comical expression as the corner of his mouth began to rise also, well on its way to becoming a full blown smirk.

"Trust me when I say that I won't be going to one of _those_ appointments again anytime soon, my friend. He was a doctor that Catherine had recommended, and I just wanted to be sure he knew what he was doing."

With a shrug of his shoulders and a small grin, the coroner closed the conversation while mastering the look of ever protective father at the same time.

The squinting eyes and pursed lips expressed Grissom's confusion into the analysis of normal family dynamics and fatherly love. Just as quickly the look was gone and he was back to the task at hand again.

"So, would you like me to come back in…?" Glancing at his watch momentarily, he continued his thought. "Say half an hour, Albert?"

"That's fine; we'll dig in to our Jane Doe then, Gil." With his blue eyes twinkling, he smirked at his own coroner's humor.

Before he finished his sentence though, the bug doctor had pushed through the doors and strode back into the hallway. Leaving the coroner with a knowing look on his face; his friend would once again be seeking out the young Miss Sidle.

Always a stickler for keeping work and play separate, he couldn't help but wonder if this was a case in which that rule shouldn't be thrown away. Not having approved of Gil's previous foray into dating from the office pool; he couldn't seem to shake the notion that this match was one that should be made.

If ever two people were made for each other, he couldn't help thinking that it was those two; his co-workers and friends who were equals in both intelligence and uniqueness. And while neither had great social skills or what most would think of as normal family tendencies; he felt they were perfectly suited for one another in every area.

Struggling with getting today's Jane Doe number one onto the cold metal slab; thoughts of romance between his two friends continued to flow through his brain. As memories of interaction between the duo surfaced and played through his mind, he was taken aback slightly at the sheer number of occasions which he had witnessed.

All of the times that he'd seen Gil staring into a lab in which Sara was working. The times where he seemed; to all others to be reading a report, but his eyes drifted up to focus on her young beautiful form did not go unnoticed by the ever observant coroner.

The occasions when Sara thought nobody could see her spying on Gil, who was quietly filling out paperwork in his office. Or when she would stand in a lab doorway; watching him perform endless arrays of experiments, with that look of adoration on her face.

He thought back to the first few times he'd witnessed this. Back when he'd thought her staring was merely an infatuation with the older and eerily intelligent Doctor Grissom. Until he looked at her face; looked and really saw the emotion there, plainly for the world to see. She had the look that his own wife had; from the moment he'd picked her up for their first date, to earlier that very day when he'd left their bed to come to work. She had the look of a woman in love.

It's unexplainable to folks who've not been lucky enough to see it; the glow that creeps over the skin, a shine that can't be wiped away with a towel. The pinkish hue that has nothing to do with temperature or any skin irritation. He'd seen that look on Sara Sidle's face for years now when she looked at Gil Grissom.

And the look that adorned Gil's face when looking at Sara had lately rivaled hers. While not as preoccupied as she'd been with Gil previously, the coroner did not miss the moments in which Gil had given away the depth of affection he felt for Sara.

Those moments after the lab explosion when neither knew they were being watched. All those times when she'd exited his office leaving him with his mouth agape, with a look of defeat on his face; the appearance of being completely taken off guard by love and regret. The case which had his friend working three days straight to find out who killed the woman who looked so much like Sara, and trying to hide the number of hours he'd worked at it from those who would frown on such behavior.

The coroner realized while scrubbing his hands that the dance had been going on for years. He found himself wondering how long it would go on before it would either destroy them or they would give in.

Standing with hands dripping, thankful as he was every single day for his wife, he knew he had to do something to urge those two would be lovers on. To help start them on the path he knew they should be on.

Shaking the water from his hands one last time before grabbing a towel, he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him as he realized what his wife, Cynthia would think of him. While he was an admitted romantic, it was she, Cynthia who was the self proclaimed match maker.

Riding her jokingly, to mind her own business on more than one occasion, he couldn't help but agree that she did seem to have a certain knack for that sort of thing. But he knew without question if she knew he was sticking his nose in this, she would certainly give him grief.

Unlike Cynthia, he did not have an innate ability for this; he would just have to wing it, there was no way he would sit down and plan anything for a caper like this. First of all he didn't want anything to appear too obvious, both Grissom and Sara were way too smart for any full fledged plan.

This would need to be a spur of the moment, think on your toes sort of an operation. Quotes on love and romance would need to be readily available. He knew as long as he kept thoughts of Cynthia repeating through his head, he would be fine. She always brought out the romantic in him.

With blue eyes sparkling at thoughts of his wife, he stretched the latex gloves over his big hands, letting the material snap back into his wrist. Immune to the sting after so many years of the repetitive motion; he merely went about his task of laying out his tools.

He completed his cursory external visual exam, having weighed the body upon its arrival at the morgue. Grabbing for the scalpel he started the Y incision with the steady hand of a man who had made the cut hundreds of times. Peeling back the skin, the internal exam began as the doors swung inward once again as both Grissom and Sara joined him this time.

"What's up, Doc?"

Looking up at the widest gap toothed smile he'd seen in a while, he was reminded quickly why Gil Grissom was in love with the beautiful young woman before him.

"No matter how many times you say that, Sara, I never tire of hearing it. However, I do always expect to look up and see a carrot dangling from your mouth."

"You can't beat an old Warner Brother's cartoon, can you Doc?"

"Watch the time references there; I've been known to throw folks out of my morgue for less than that."

With her face reddening, she lowered it, their ritualistic greeting over with for the day.

"If you two are done reminiscing, can we get on with this please? I'm sure her family would like some answers as to why such a young woman passed away."

"You got an ID already, Gil?"

"Yeah, the husband just came in. The description he gave matched; we used the photos taken from the scene for the ID. One Miss Sarah Jacobs, she turned thirty-five, yesterday," Grissom said as he scanned over the folder in his hand.

All present in the autopsy room took in for a moment that the young, and by all other appearances healthy woman died on what should have been a day of celebration.

"Well, let's see if we can let her husband know what happened, shall we?" Doc suggested. "I haven't found anything of significance on the body yet. Her heart appears quite large though."

Removing the organ, he dropped it on the scales knowing before seeing the exact weight that it was way too large; well over the normal 500 grams.

"I'll do a tox screen; make sure she had no drugs in her system that would cause the increased size. Do we know if she had any medical conditions? Some drugs that treat cancer for example, can cause an enlarged heart."

"The husband didn't mention anything, Al." Grissom answered as he scribbled something in the folder.

"An enlarged heart. Is there any way to tell how long it was enlarged? Would she have had any signs or symptoms?"

"Well if it was congenital Sara, she may not have known or recognized any of the symptoms. She may have had them her whole life, so she wouldn't recognize any of the dizziness, increased blood pressure, or arrhythmia as warning signs. They would have been normal sensations for her."

"Brass is already checking out the husband, seeing if he had a motive." Grissom inserted.

"I don't think he did it Grissom, he seemed so sincere, so heart broken." Sara responded solemnly.

"I agree that he seemed sincere enough Sara, but we still need to rule him out," Grissom replied softly.

Robbins noticed Grissom was trying not to be too authoritative, letting Sara continue on with her thought.

"He said they'd had a fight about money. I wonder if the small amount of stress from a routine marital spat could have caused her enlarged heart to finally blow out." Sara pondered aloud.

"Thinking she died of a broken heart?" Doc responded sadly. "Quite possible given its size, even the smallest amount of stress may have done it.

"Hearts will never be practical until they are made unbreakable." Grissom quipped.

"Ah yes, from the Wizard of Oz, but, _to fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead, _Doc Robbins replied. Seeing Grissom's quizzical look he added, "Bertrand Russell."

Sara watched the dual with amusement, glad that Doc Robbins and love seemed to be coming out on top, at least mometarily.

Raising his arms in an all-encompassing way Grissom spoke quietly with his eyes focused on the body before them, "But if we all made the right choices when it came to love, we wouldn't be living this thing called life would we?"

"Life is what happens after you make your plans." Robbins agreed shaking his head affirmatively, then added, "but to chose not to chose is still a choice, Gil."

Looking up from the body Grissom caught Doc's lingering look before adding solemnly, "she made the choice but the ending's always the same; alone on a slab."

Silence filled the room as all three looked on over Sarah Jacobs and her heart which was still in the stainless bucket hanging from the scales.

"You live and you die, it's what's in-between that matters most." Robbins added finally as they all stared silently at the body.

Robbins watched Grissom out of the corner of his eye, he was risking glances at Sara who was still sadly staring at the dead woman on the table. Grissom looked almost definitive as his eyes drifted between Sara and the cold corpse, his head shaking almost imperceptibly in the affirmative.

Robbins grinned as he turned around to grab his saw. Attacking this without a plan was a wonderful idea, things seemed to be smoothing out and without much thought at all.

Turning back around with saw in hand, Robbins watched Grissom pull back the swinging door, allowing Sara to exit in front of him as his hand drifted to the small of her back and he asked her if she'd like to grab coffee after their shift. Both the hopeful look in his eyes as well as the broad smile on Sara's face gave Robbins a sense of accomplishment at the beginning of his day. He couldn't be certain that it meant anything or if anything would come of it, but it was a chance and that was more than some people had. Plus he knew if he tried to insert himself further, it would be too much and his meddling would be noticed.

Smiling, he checked the sharpness of the blade, happy that they must indeed be made for each other if so little effort was required from him. He hoped they were on track now even though he barely played a part at all. There was no need to pass that part of the story on to Cynthia, he would regale her with his tale of how integral he was in nudging Grissom and Sara together. He couldn't wait for his day to be over, his lovely wife would be proud of his efforts.

End

Battus philenor


End file.
